Thanksgiving in the Wilderness: Emily

Thanksgiving in the Wilderness by Kellie PowellEmily is a woman in her twenties who becomes involved in a polyamorous relationship. She is mostly talking to the audience, but sometimes she addresses her friend Rita, who is onstage with her, and sometimes she talks to the man in question.

Emily:

(To Rita.) Contrary to popular opinion, there are not plenty of fish in the sea, and even if there are, none of them are interested in my bait. And I guess that's why, when I saw him again, and he started telling me about how he wasn't ready for a new relationship, and how he actually thinks that dating is pretty stupid... Which, to be fair, is essentially true. It is kind of ridiculous to think that there's one person out there for every other person, and that one person can meet all of your needs, and that anyone could really be satisfied with only one person, for all time --

(To the audience.) There's a rational part of me that does actually agree with him. That thinks that sex is only as complicated as the people who're having it. And that relationships shouldn't have to be a quid-pro-quo transaction: I agree to sleep only with you, so that you sleep only with me. If monogamy came naturally, why would so many married people have affairs? If people could just evolve past jealousy, we would all probably be a lot happier. He's right. Jealousy is irrational. He wanted something casual, and I was a little disappointed... I got my hopes up, which was stupid, and I got let down, which I should have predicted... And how can I really blame him? He was up front with me. He told me exactly what he wanted and exactly what he didn't. I could have said, "No, that's not enough for me. I want a real relationship or nothing." But I didn't say that.

(To Rita.) If I thought I could do better, then none of this would have ever happened. But I don't, and it did. I told myself, I'll just keep hanging out with him, until I meet someone better suited for me, the right person.

(To the audience.) I told myself, "Don't get attached, because this is temporary. Don't be jealous, because he's just not worth it." But I'd lie awake, with him sleeping next to me, and think... 

(To him.) "You're always rushing off - you have all these other friends and other things to do, and other women's beds to jump into... and I wish you had more room for me in your life. I wish you wished you had room for me in your life. I wish you gave a damn. Because, someday, you'll meet someone and you'll feel the thing that you always make fun of when other people feel it, and all your rhetoric about how monogamy is stupid and relationships are bullshit will go completely out the window. And I will never be able to stop wondering: Why wasn't it me? Why couldn't it have been me?"

Spilled Milk: Joan

Spilled Milk by Kellie Powell

Background Info: Joan returns from a year away at college and confronts an old friend at her homecoming party. Just before Joan departed, her friend Helen did something Joan considers unforgivable - she failed to protect Joan from a possible threat of sexual assault.

JOAN: It happened right here, you know. Almost a year ago. Right before I left. He came to the party with Kevin and his friends. And he liked you right away. Like they always do. Oh, I got used to being invisible, whenever you were around a long time ago. I mean, just look at you. And look at me. If I were a guy, I wouldn't look twice at me, either. The point is, he wanted you. No surprise. He saw you, he wanted you. And you definitely didn't want him. And he could tell. And that was when I moved in for the kill.

Everyone was drinking. People were starting to leave. We were sitting on the floor in the living room, and I kissed him. You saw us, and you watched me bring him up here. And then you went to sleep on the couch.Like you had a dozen other nights, after a dozen other parties. And then... everyone else left. I brought him here. We were kissing... and he was a good kisser. And he... he started... and I didn't stop him.And then, he went downstairs, to the bathroom. And he was gone a longtime. And when he came back, he brought a condom.

I woke up the next morning, and he was gone. And I put on my clothes,and I came downstairs, and you were there, sleeping. And I woke you up, and I told you what had happened. I told you that I had slept with him. And you know what you told me? You said, "I woke up, in the middle of the night, and he was on top of me." He was feeling you up,in your sleep. He was groping you, basically molesting you... while you were passed out. You woke up, and his hand was in your crotch. I mean, that's what you said, right? It was... strange, how it didn't really seem to bother you. But I guess you've had guys do worse. You told me all this... so calmly. Like, it meant so little... You said,"I woke up, and I made him stop, and I kept telling him, 'Go back to Joan. Go back upstairs with Joan.'" You said, "I gave him a condom from my purse." Why? Why would you do that? I mean, what the f#ck is wrong with you? A guy tries to assault you while you're passed out,and you think, "I know. I'll send him upstairs to my best friend."Why?

Why didn't you kick him out of my f#cking house? You could have screamed bloody murder and woken up my parents. You could have threatened to press charges. What he did was assault. What do you think would have happened if you hadn't woken up? He could have raped you. And you... you sent him back to me. How generous. How benevolent.Why didn't you f#cking warn me? Why did you wait until the next morning to tell me what he did? Why didn't you tell me right then? God, Helen. I mean, think about it. You send this guy, this guy... who has just violated you... up to my attic. What do you think would have happened if I had said no?

It never occurred to you... that I might say no? Well, sure. That makes sense. I mean, I had certainly brought enough guys up to the attic that summer, hadn't I? Yeah. I mean, I kissed this guy this guy,who I barely knew. So, I guess I deserved whatever I got. And you were right. I mean, I didn't say no. But I would have. If I had known what he had done to you, I would have. But you didn't know that? Oh, right. Because I'm such a slut, I'll f#ck anyone. It's what you were thinking, though. It had to be. It's the only explanation. You had a chance to protect me, and you didn't. Because you never thought, not even for a second, that I would say no...

I was drowning! ...And you couldn't see it. You were my best friend. And you couldn't see it. All I wanted was for someone... to look at me the way they all looked at you. I just wanted someone... to want me. Someone, anyone. I didn't f#ck those guys in the attic because I wanted to. I did it to prove that I existed. That I wasn't invisible.And you... you were oblivious.

I would have done anything to protect you. I would have done anything.

Dogface: Dogface

Dogface by Kellie Powell
Background Info: Dogface confronts her friend, Ethan. They recently slept together, which she thought implied that their relationship was moving to a new level, but Ethan has instead been ignoring her and pretending that nothing happened.

DOGFACE: 

I don't want to get all Hallmark card on you, but, you are my best friend. We've been through so much together. You know me better than I have ever let anyone know me. You're the first person I've ever met who understands me, who thinks the way I do, who gets me. Am I crazy? Am I wrong? Because... you're important to me.

If you just aren't attracted to me... I could understand that. I know you can't choose who you want, you can't control those feelings. The heart wants what the heart wants. If we could choose... then I could stop wanting you. I know it doesn't work like that. So, if you just don't like me that way... but, you do, don't you? You must. I mean, at least a little? You can't find me too repulsive, you're the one who kissed me... Did I do something wrong? I mean, was I not... good? Was I too easy?

Was I supposed to play hard to get? I don't know how to be coy and play games. No one ever explained the rules to me. All I know how to do is be honest. And you said that was something you loved about me.

Is it... are you ashamed? Is that why you're pretending like it didn't happen? That's it, isn't it. You're ashamed. Right. I mean, who wouldn't be ashamed to be with me? I'm Dogface. You can f#ck Dogface behind closed doors, but you can't introduce her to your friends. You can't bring her home to meet your mom.

You said... you're not ready. Is anyone ever ready for their life to change? How do you expect to learn anything? We'll make all kinds of stupid mistakes and feel like idiots and - welcome to the human condition! Trial and error, it's the only way to learn. No one's ever ready.

You said... you don't want to get serious. But how am I supposed to act casual about something this intense, this rare? You're the first person to see me - how can that not be a big deal? Look at me. How many chances am I going to have in life? I think I could love you. I think you could have loved me.

And if I'm crazy, then I'm crazy. If I'm wrong, then, okay, I'm wrong. But if I'm right, and you're just too chicken sh1t to deal with the possibility of something real and rare and dangerous and life-altering, then... then I'm not even sure I would want to love someone so stupid!

I think I finally understand why they say that you "lose" your virginity. I always thought that was a dumb expression. It makes it sounded like your virginity was this special, sacred thing you were supposed to guard with your life. When to me... the fact that I'd never had sex was like... a flashing neon sign saying, "Ugly loser" hanging over my head. I was trying to "lose" it. Hell, for a couple of years there, I was trying to throw it at anyone who gave me a second look.

But now, I mean... I do feel like I have lost something. Not my purity or innocence or any of that... dogmatic bullshit. I've lost... the walls I built to protect myself from feeling... this. I've lost the ability to distance myself from the rest of the lowly humans... my position of self-deprecating superiority that let me live without hope for all those years...

I lost my isolation. I let you in. And I gave you the power to hurt me.

See, I want to be a cat. Because... most cats are very independent creatures. They can be domesticated, but, for the most part, they don't really act like pets as much as they act like caged predators.

They fend for themselves. And sometimes, sometimes, when they want you to give them a little affection, they crawl into your lap, and they purr, and they let you pet them, and love them. And then, after a little while, they get sick of you, and they scratch you, and they jump up and they run away. Cats are fierce. Cats get what they need from you, and then they just move on.

I'm not a cat. I'm a dog. Dogs are not independent. Dogs love you, pretty much unconditionally. They are so loyal, it defies all logic. Dogs need you, and they let you know that they need you. They need you to love them. They cry when you leave in the morning, and they jump for joy when you come home at night. They always want your attention. They can't get enough of your love.

I don't want to be a dog. But I am. I think I always will be.

Like Dreaming, Backwards: Nell (uncut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards
By Kellie Powell
Like Dreaming, Backwards is a series of monologues and scenes about the suicide of a young college student named Nell. The play also includes monologues from Nell's mother, Leah, a acquaintance, Yale, and her friend, Natalie. For further information and advice on performing this monologue, read this note from the playwright.

NELL:

Have you ever had a dream and suddenly, you realize what's happening doesn't make any sense - and you realize that you're dreaming? And you realize: if you know that you're dreaming, then you can control what's going to happen next? When I have an episode, it's exactly like that - only backwards.

The first time I tried to kill myself, I was ten. When I woke up the next morning, I was relieved. I was happy that I hadn't succeeded. I didn't tell anyone. And for a while, I was happy to be alive. But then, a year later, I tried again. I've lost count of how many times I've tried and failed. I tried to poison myself, overdose on sleeping pills, hang myself, drown myself, suffocate myself, and throw myself into traffic. Now, when I wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach and washing it down with a bottle of wine, I'm never, ever relieved. I feel trapped. I feel desperate. I feel like even more of a failure. And I have even wondered if the reason that I can't kill myself is because I'm already dead and in Hell. This is a living Hell. They say suicide is "taking the easy way out". Let me tell you: It's not that fucking easy. Your physical drive to live undermines your mind's desire to die. Your instincts to breathe are hard to overcome. You can't bear another second of misery - but your heart just refuses to stop beating. It has some nerve.

It's hard to tell the people I love that I want to die. So I spend a lot of my time and energy pretending to be normal. When I ended up in the hospital, it was almost a relief. Because I didn't have to act for anyone, anymore. I just cried all day. And no one took it personally. No one wanted to blame themselves. I could cry, and it didn't hurt anyone's feeling. The honesty was refreshing.

But then, I started to look at the other patients around me. I was surrounded by people who had been miserable their entire lives. There was an eighty-year-old woman there, who had been in and out of psych wards since she was my age. She stared into space all day, crying. And every day, she would look at me, and ask, "Why won't they just let me die?" And I didn't have an answer. And I realized: That was my future. I understood with perfect clarity that I was never going to get better. No therapy can help me. No medication can fix me. I can make everyone think I'm normal, that I'm coping, that I'm okay. But I've never been okay. I'll never be okay. I will always be one bad day away from killing myself. Until I'm dead. I spend my life trying to delay what I know is inevitable. And any day could be my last.

Here's the uncut version! I found it! As you can see, the uncut version is a lot longer, so it wasn't very good for audition use.

Like Dreaming, Backwards: Nell (cut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards by Kellie Powell (cut version)

Like Dreaming, Backwards is a series of monologues and scenes about the suicide of a young college student named Nell. The play also includes monologues from Nell's mother, Leah, a acquaintance, Yale, and her friend, Natalie. For further information and advice on performing this monologue, read this note from the playwright

(cut version)

NELL:

The first time I tried to kill myself, I was ten. 

When I woke up the next morning, I was relieved. 

But then I tried again. 

I've lost count of how many times I've tried and failed. 

Now, when I wake up after taking every sleeping pill in arm's reach, 

I'm never, ever relieved. I feel trapped. 

I feel desperate. I feel like even more of a failure. 

They say suicide is "taking the easy way out". 

Let me tell you: It's not that fucking easy. 

You can't bear another second of misery - 

but your heart just refuses to stop beating.

I understand with perfect clarity that I am never going to get better. 

No therapy can help me. No medication can fix me. 

I can make everyone think I'm normal, that I'm coping, that I'm okay.

But I've never been okay. I'll never be okay.

I apologise for not posting last week! And I apologise for not being able to find the uncut version of this monologue. This is the cut version that I used to audition for UVU's production of Next to Normal.